


Not Wisely But Well

by DizzyDrea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, In Vino Veritas, Pining, Romance, Trope Bingo Round 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 19:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1659980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She might have to endure a lifetime of longing for that which she could not have, but now she had hope. And that was not an insignificant thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Wisely But Well

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing _Thor: The Dark World_ , and then the _Agents of SHIELD_ episode _Yes Men_ , I had this sudden insight about Sif: she's in love with Thor. Probably not so much an insight for those who read the comics, but since I don't, there you go. Anyway, Muse got it into her head to write something with Thor and Sif, but we couldn't settle on the right idea. Then I got my Trope Bingo card and it had the In Vino Veritas square on it. Needless to say, a drunk Sif confessing her love for Thor was the only way to go.
> 
> For the _in vino veritas/drunkenness_ square on my Trope Bingo card.
> 
>  _Thor_ belongs to Alan Taylor, Kevin Feige, Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios and a lot of other people who aren't me. I'm doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

I pray you, in your letters,  
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,  
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,  
Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak  
Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well...  
~William Shakespeare, _Othello_ , Act 5, scene 2

~o~

The celebration of Asgard's latest victory was in full swing, wine and song flowing as freely as the tales of battlefield exploits. Hours had passed since the warriors of Asgard had returned via the Bifrost, and the more time that passed, the drunker and wilder the celebration became.

Lady Sif had watched the proceedings from a safe distance, her heart heavy even in light of their success. She had no desire to revel with the others, and had even declined the many offers of wine and companionship that had come her way over the course of the evening. 

Her conversation with Thor had left her even more melancholy than before, if that were even possible. His own dour mood had been obvious, and it had taken a level of fortitude she had heretofore not known she possessed to simply smile and nod and allow him to wallow. On any other day, she might have punched him; tonight, she only wanted to be as far away as she could manage.

Which is why she found herself on the balcony overlooking the sprawling city-state of Asgard. Lights twinkled brightly in the night, the fresh evening breeze carrying evidence of revelry from all corners of the mighty city. It was beauty incarnate to her, a constancy that she felt in her bones. If nothing else, she always had Asgard.

Sif snorted at herself. 

"That's hardly very ladylike."

Sif spun on her heel to find Fandral smirking at her from the open doorway. She allowed a smirk of her own to bloom on her face as she raised her goblet. "And since when have you known me to be overly concerned with being a lady?"

"Good point," Fandral said. He pushed off the doorjamb he'd been leaning on to join her at the railing. "It would seem that your earlier abstinence has melted away. Any particular reason why?"

It was true; she'd chosen not to drink—well, not overmuch anyway—knowing that the alcohol wouldn't improve her mood. But after her conversation with Thor, she'd needed a drink. Several, in point of fact. She wasn't nearly as drunk as she'd like, but it was a start, and it kept the voices in her head quiet.

"I would not say that too loudly, were I you," Fandral said, eyeing her with some amusement but also a healthy dose of concern. "Not even Thor could ignore evidence of one of his best warriors losing touch with reality."

Sif giggled. "I said that aloud, did I?" At Fandral's nod, she giggled once again. "Well, let it be our little secret, then, hmm?"

"If you like," Fandral said. He turned from the view of the city, leaning his hip against the railing as he crossed his arms over his chest. She knew that look; it was the look that said that he was about to get serious, and the last thing she needed was for him to poke at her about her mood. Given that her alcohol consumption had been mainly accomplished within the last hour, she felt fairly certain that if he found the right button and pushed _really hard_ , she'd give up her secrets with little trouble at all.

Tonight, of all nights, it was the last thing she wanted to do.

"What has you troubled, my old friend?" he asked gently. "You were fine earlier, but then you disappeared, and when I find you out here, you're well into your cups, not at all like yourself. What could be so bad that you'd resort to this, of all things?"

It was his tone of voice that would prove to be her undoing, she'd decide later. She struggled against it mightily, her head unwilling to release her secret, but her heart battered and sore and longing for the comfort his voice promised she could find.

"I am, against all wisdom to the contrary, in love with Thor."

The words hung there in the air, unable to be taken back and unambiguous in form and meaning. Fandral simply stared at her, his eyes blinking the only sign that he was not a mere statue on the balcony. His mouth opened and shut a few times, as though he were trying and failing to find words that would fit this grand declaration she'd so unceremoniously dropped in his lap.

Well, he did ask.

"Perhaps, Fandral, you would do me the favor of joining your compatriots," a voice from the doorway floated out to them. They both turned to see Queen Frigga standing serenely by, a soft smile on her face as she regarded them. "I believe Volstagg has claimed that he can swing across the Great Hall via the chandeliers. I would very much prefer that that didn't happen."

Fandral glanced between Sif and his Queen, then bowed to both of them. "As you wish, my Queen. Lady Sif."

To his credit, he didn't so much as glance back as he passed through the doors and back into the Hall. She knew he wouldn't let this go; he never did when it was important, despite his reputation as a charming scoundrel. But thankfully that conversation could be put off until she was sober and not prone to blurting out anything that came to mind. Not that it would make it less painful, but at least she could do some damage control.

When Fandral had disappeared around the bend, Queen Frigga joined Sif at the railing, back straight and eyes roving the landscape, likely admiring the great city as she had been just a few minutes ago.

"I suppose you heard," Sif said as she stared down into her goblet. It was distressingly empty, though perhaps after her untimely outburst, that was a good thing. The Queen inclined her head but otherwise remained silent. Sif sighed. "I don’t suppose I meant to fall in love with him. It's just—I woke up one day to find that I had, with no idea how I'd gotten there."

"Love does have a way of surprising us," Frigga said, ghosting a smile. "And I can hardly fault you for your choice. My son is handsome and brave, as fine a warrior as Asgard has seen in millennia. My husband excluded, of course."

Sif chuckled. "Of course." 

Silence fell between the two women then, an easy silence that would have surprised Sif if she'd been sober enough to appreciate it. Frigga had always been an ideal more than a woman, despite the fact that Sif had been lifelong friends with her son. Of course she'd seen the woman in the palace, but they'd never interacted much. She and Thor, and later the rest, were always running off somewhere: climbing trees and playing at swordfighting when they were younger, and then later, fighting real battles when they'd grown. In the midst of all that chaos, Frigga had seemed to be the calm center of their world, and she still exuded that placid assurance today. 

Seemingly without her own input, Sif felt herself calm, the fog of wine recede and the melancholy fade away, even if just a little.

She saw Frigga's expression turn from detatched interest to calm satisfaction, the only outward indication that something had passed between them.

"My son has changed much since his exile to Midgard," she said quietly. "He has grown from the spoiled child he was when he left to a man ready to inherit his birthright."

Sif couldn't disagree. She had been witness to his heroics against the Destroyer. Her heart had nearly stopped in her chest when she watched him stand before the great machine, offering himself up as sacrifice in order to spare the humans. It had been, of course, the thing that had won him back Mjolnir and his place in Asgard, and in that moment, she could not have been more proud of him had she tried.

But then she'd seen the way that Thor looked at Jane Foster, and the way that the young lady looked at her friend, and she'd known that his heart was lost to her, if indeed it had ever been hers to win. 

That thought depressed her even more, and she wished fervently that her cup would magically refill itself. 

"She really is remarkable, is she not?"

Sif started, forcibly dragged away from her morose musings by the Queen's words. Frigga had never met Jane Foster, that she could recall, and she frowned as she wondered just how the woman could make that sort of declaration about someone she'd only been told of secondhand. 

"She has existed for millennia, and she will go on for millennia more," Frigga went on, casting a glance at Sif as if to make sure she was still paying attention. Sif breathed a little easier, realizing that the Queen had been speaking of Asgard, with words that Sif herself might have chosen, had she been a bit more sober. "And between the rising of her sun and the moment it goes down, whole millennia will pass on other worlds. The humans especially, live their lives in but the blink of an eye. I can see why Thor is so fascinated by them, and they by him."

"They are… unique," Sif said. In the short time she'd been on Midgard, she had learned much of the humans, including a healthy respect for them. They were not as strong or long-lived as Asgardians, true, but they were fierce and loyal, two qualities she could respect in any being.

"Thor speaks highly of one in particular," Frigga said. "Jane Foster, I believe he called her."

Sif nodded. "She is wise among her people, and strong in spirit. Thor has chosen well."

And there was the rub: she could not fault Thor for his choice. Jane Foster was a remarkable woman, and if she had to lose him to someone, she was glad it was this woman.

"I am glad to hear it," Frigga said. She turned then, gracing Sif with a smile tinged with just a bit of sad understanding. "Guard your esteem for my son well, Lady Sif. There will come a day when Jane Foster will no longer be by his side. He will need your strength to see him through."

"Of course, my Queen," Sif said automatically. It would hurt, in ways she wasn't prepared to explore just now, being his friend, but she would do it, not only for Frigga's sake, but for Thor's.

"And when his thoughts turn from the Lady Jane, I believe he will see what he has had all along."

"I would wish it so," Sif said, meeting the Queen's sad smile with one of her own, "but I cannot rest my hopes on it."

"Infatuation is fleeting," Frigga said, reaching out and squeezing her arm. "True love is eternal. One day my son will realize this. And so will you."

The Queen gave her arm one last squeeze, then took her leave. Sif didn't watch her go, instead turning her attention back to the city, spread out before her in all her glory. Now that she'd gone, Sif could feel the fog of the wine returning. But instead of the euphoria of before, she felt only tired, as though the weight of the world were resting on her shoulders. Or maybe it wasn't the world, but an indeterminate future she could feel pressing down on her.

"I rather believe that Thor is an idiot."

Sif spun to find Fandral standing in virtually the same place he'd been just a few minutes ago. "What—"

"By the time I arrived in the Great Hall, Volstagg had passed out into a bowl of pudding and Thor was nearly incapacitated with laughter." Fandral pushed off the doorjamb and joined Sif at the railing once more.

"How much of that did you hear?" she asked as she turned back to face the view.

"Enough."

Sif sighed. Well, she'd already blurted out her greatest secret to him. What was one more?

"Come, my old friend," Fandral said. He looped her arm over his shoulder, pulling her to his side to guide her away. "You need rest, and you will not get it here."

Sif let her head fall to Fandral's shoulder. "You are a good friend."

"You will not think so tomorrow morning," Fandral said, chuckling. 

She let him lead her back through the Hall and towards her rooms. She had no doubt that she would be feeling the pain of this night by morning, and it was likely that Fandral would wait only until she'd eaten her breakfast before questioning her. But instead of dreading the conversation, she felt oddly lighter. It would be good to have someone to share this burden with. And the knowledge of Thor's own mother approving of her choice allowed her heart to settle in her chest.

She might have to endure a lifetime of longing for that which she could not have, but now she had hope. And that was not an insignificant thing.

~Finis


End file.
